


Snowflake

by paintedbutton



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 02:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedbutton/pseuds/paintedbutton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester and snow do not mix well together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowflake

**Author's Note:**

> This was part of the 30 Days od Writing Challenge I did on Tumblr, this one for the prompt "snowflake" obviously. ;)

Dean Winchester and snow don’t mix well together. His wardrobe had always been more suited for spring or fall weather, never winter where it’s wet and impossibly cold and leather jackets, no matter how many layers are underneath them, provide little comfort. To Dean’s utter despair Castiel and snow do mix exceptionally well together.

 

It had all started when the rain had turned into snow in early November. They’d been pretty far up north at the time and while Dean had already been planning to move further south, maybe visit Sam and Amelia and their stupid dog in Texas, the snow just really drove the point home. Castiel on the other hand had looked up at the steel gray sky in serene wonder. Dean had spent a good hour longer than intended in the snow that day, caught in watching Castiel catch snowflakes and watch them melt in his by then probably freezing hands. And maybe, just maybe, Dean didn’t mind the snow all that much on that day.

 

It had only gotten worse after that. They did manage to visit Sam but were shortly after drawn back north by Garth calling them about getting rid of a Shifter that had taken residence in Boston (and Dean cursed him out more than a little for that). After that Castiel continuously managed to keep them in places plagued by that infernal white stuff. And Dean kept giving in. He couldn’t believe himself sometimes. That didn’t mean he wasn’t complaining about the situation but Castiel usually found a way to shut him up.

 

On this particular day Dean sends Castiel out on his quest to find and identify every single snowflake (or whatever it is he might be doing) on his own. It’s almost Christmas, they should be heading out to Sam’s soon but Castiel had begged for another day and Dean had seen no reason to deny him. So he’s buried under the blanket of their motel room bed mindlessly watching Dr. Sexy reruns when Castiel stumbles in, completely wet and hair matted from snow. His cheeks and hands are red from the cold but he has a smile on his face, so Dean just lazily grins at him. It promptly turns into a yelp when Castiel mojos out of his clothes (which Dean would call a gross misuse of what little angelic power he has left if it wasn’t so damn awesome) and crawls under the covers with him. And damn it, Castiel is fucking freezing. But he’s still stronger than Dean so the only thing he can do is make undignified noises while Castiel fits his icy limbs around him.

“You son of a bitch,” Dean grumbles but breaks off into a moan when cold lips begin trailing kisses down his neck. Castiel used to be a lot more unsure and cautious about this stuff but really he’d always been a fast learner and he’d gotten the hang of sex pretty soon. And he’s obviously smart enough to notice that the cold against Dean’s pleasantly warm skin is just added sensation. Castiel moves on from Dean’s neck to his chest.

“I’ll warm up faster this way,” he tells Dean matter-of-fact before capturing his right nipple between his lips. Dean can feel cold hands wandering restlessly over his body and arches against them with a quiet moan. He hates the snow, he hates the cold but this he could get used to. Castiel’s mouth keeps wandering further and further down, Dean can feel him slowly warming up. It’s nice, this kind of unhurried exploration of places they’ve already explored so many times before, he can’t help but sink into it, become pliant under Castiel’s hands, spread his legs so he can fit comfortably between them. There’s the occasional drip-drip of water from his wet hair and the moment Castiel notices he catches them with his tongue, sucking them from Dean’s hips slowly. He looks up at Dean then, a smile visible in his blue eyes and Dean can’t help but reach out, draw him up and kiss him senseless.

“Sneaky bastard,” he says breathlessly and grinning when they part again. One hand reaches out to the bedside table for the lube because Castiel is slowly grinding their hips together and Dean’s losing ‘slow and lazy’ pretty damn fast. He doesn’t even bother questioning that, somehow, in between he lost what little clothes he had on in the first place – sneaky bastard covers that one too. Not that it matters, their cocks dragging together between them feels pretty damn amazing. Finally his hand finds the lube and he draws it over, grinning up at Castiel deviously. The angel looks at his hand and shakes his head smiling before sitting up and taking the bottle away from him. Dean watches through half lidded eyes as he coats his fingers and moves them behind himself, moaning appreciatively as he begins spreading himself. He looks good like this, so damn good, and Dean will never grow tired of watching him or of hearing the sounds he makes. He can’t help rolling his hips up, seeking some sort of friction either. But Castiel just smiles at him, pushes a hand against his stomach to quiet him down as he adds another finger. It seems an eternity before he coats Dean’s cock in lube and slowly sinks down. Dean groans softly, hands automatically finding Castiel’s hips to anchor himself. Castiel could take Dean just snapping his hips up and pushing in with one hard thrust, they both know that, but he also rather likes to take his time. So Dean lets Castiel set the pace, matches his rhythm with his own thrusts and watches greedily as the angel slowly comes undone. He drinks up the noises Castiel makes and the way he rocks his hips down and the way Dean’s name sounds on those kiss-swollen lips. He looks so fucking amazing and so damn debauched that Dean can’t help but want more contact. He leans up on his elbows, drags Cas down with one hand tangled in wet hair and finds his lips easily, the movement practiced a million times before. He’s close, a slow pleasant burn deep inside his belly, so he lets go again, reaches between them and starts jerking Castiel in the rhythm of their thrusts. Before long the angel is crying out, his movements becoming erratic, and with Dean’s name on his lips he spills over their stomachs. The clench of his muscles around Dean is all it takes for him to follow, orgasm dragged out of him as much by how Cas looks at that moment as by how amazing he feels. They collapse breathlessly, Dean’s hand lazily coming up to card through Castiel’s hair. He can’t help but smile as his breathing slows down to normal again.

“That kind of snowy day I can deal with,” he confides and feels Castiel chuckle against his chest.

“I thought you might come to see the benefits.”


End file.
